


Taking a Bullet

by RayneSummer



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, a fuckton of angst dont look at me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-07-12 01:22:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7078669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RayneSummer/pseuds/RayneSummer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nate takes a bullet meant for Sully at the end of a fight broken out. Neither handles it all that well.</p>
<p>[After all, raising a boy isn't a crime, and six years wasn't a lifetime, but for him it meant going to the ends of the earth - and back.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking a Bullet

**Author's Note:**

> This took me a few days to finish, and contains aggressively father + son family angst. I regret nothing. Apart from for some reason managing to write this unplanned endless droll of shameless hurt/comfort and angst for the boys (again), YET despite playing u4 almost every chance ever still have not got around to doing any more fic for it??!  
> Well. I have issues about these two.

In the middle of a firefight there isn't really time to stop and admire the view. You've got to concentrate on not being shot, or blown up, or getting too close to the enemies so they can physically attack you and kick your teeth in or worse.

If you're fighting side by side with a partner - one you trust with anything and everything - then it doesn't mean you should be any less vigilant to death coming from any side, but it does mean that you have to listen out also for warnings from an incoming bullet or grenade you haven't noticed, and equally for a call for help or a shout of pain from your partner, alerting you to a dire wrong.

At any rate, Victor Sullivan had all these rules down, since in his line of work things tended to get messy more often than not, though by some luck he and his partner (20 years old, a kid more and less) generally managed to get out of most scrapes without serious consequences.

In all honesty, that's what he was hoping for right now.

Nate shouted a warning of a grenade thrown their way, and Sully threw himself away from where it landed with its frantic beeping before exploding aggresively, destroying the fence they had been using as cover and washing heat over their faces.

Sully gave Nate a quick thumbs-up for the warning - he hadn't been watching the goon that threw it and would have been dangerously close to the explosion - and got a fleeting smile in return before they both turned to their nearest opponents and tackled them to the ground, relieving of weapons and ensuring the men wouldn't be getting back up soon.

The sort of smile Nathan Drake could give to his mentor in such situations was often all the encouragement Sully needed that they were doing good. Not just in the fight, but in general. This smile only appeared, managed to slip past the kid's cocky guard, seemingly when Sully would outwardly praise or show his warm proudness towards Nate.

It was the sort of thing that didn't change from year to year; didn't grow up, didn't get stronger, didn't gain scars of knowledge about the real world. It was the only bright innocent thing that Nate was left with after years of working by the side of a guy like Sully. But he was never innocent at 14 either. And probably never thought he'd live past 20.

Sully gave the man one final kick in the face to ensure he stayed down before quickly getting back up and taking aim at another nearby goon who had been in the processs of aiming his gun, in turn, at a distracted Nate. Before the guy could so much as blink, Sully pulled his trigger and a bullet thudded into the man's chest, downing him immediately and ensuring Nate's safety.

It wasn't prudent to think too much about these things, Sully knew, and so only cast the dying thug a glance of graded sorrow before looking around for any other targets that were of immediate threat. Nate finally finished off the goon that had tried to pin him to the ground and place a bullet in his head, and scrambled up, ready for another attack, prioritising things in one look: immediate threats, number of enemies, Sully's place and wellbeing.

"See any more?" Sully called quietly as Nate scanned the space of attack. There was maybe 10 meters of distance between them; enough to ensure to be heard, enough to help the other, and enough to be attacked individually, thus increasing chances of escape and rescue. Standard.

After a short moment of scutiny, Nate physically relaxed a little - not off-guard but not battle-tense - and glanced back at Sully with that cocky half-grin of victory.

"Nope," the kid reported, clearly pleased. "Rest of 'em musta run off chasing their tails."

Rolling his eyes with a smile at the coward taunting, Sully holstered his gun and allowed himself a sense of pleasure. Sure, killing was never fun, but it was necessary, and past years taught not to think of the dead once gone, especially do not learn those you don't know.

So he did not pay attention to the dead bodies, the faces of men who were hired soldiers, as he glanced around and picked up a machine gun to take. He trusted Nate with every fibre of his being to alert in the case of approaching enemies or other threats, so much so that Sully kept no more than an ear out for what was going on.

He checked the clip of the gun and noted with satisfaction that most of the bullets had not been used before this particular guy had been taken down. Sully was about to check the guy's pistol too, but a shout from behind had him turning in a second, salvaged machine gun at the ready.

Nate struggled with a goon who had managed to sneak up behind him and had an arm around the kid's throat, restricting his movements; a second man was running straight for Sully, and had Nate not pushed away from his captor enough to yell a quick warning, they would both be caught.

Sully raised the gun and easily fired a good number of shots straight at the guy, who flailed dramatically before dropping dead to the ground. He didn't wait to look though, immediately running towards Nate and his attacker to help.

"Get down!" Sully called as he chucked the used machine gun on the floor and drew out his own revolver in a second, aiming it for a headshot. Nate didn't need to be asked twice, and strongly hit the deck, surprising the guy who let him fall out of his grasp, and within a moment Sully put a bullet through the man's throat.

Quickly holstering the gun and watching the man follow his leaking blood to the ground, Sully turned up gaze on Nate, who had scrambled away from the dying goon and now pushed himself up with a small wince, rubbing dust from his hands.

"You good, kid?" He took a step closer in case everything wasn't okay, watching closely.

Nate blinked at Sully's concerned expression and tried for a smile. "Yeah, fine. Guy had a stupid grip," he replied casually, reassuring his mentor. Sully nodded tersely and glanced behind himself for any more attacks.

However, he was apparently looking in the wrong direction.

Several things happened in quick succession; Nate gasped, yelled something, and as Sully turned to look, the kid barrelled into him, knocking them both to the ground, hard. Barely a second later, Sully heard the crack of a sniper shot and a short yelp of pain right next to him as something whooshed by, missing him by inches.

Urgently, he got up and scanned the terrace of the nearby abandoned castle with careful eyes. With years of experience behind picking out the threat within a building, he spotted the man loading up his rifle for another shot, and before he could raise the gun again, a bullet went straight in his head.

Sully lowered his smoking revolver, breathing harshly. That was too close.

He turned to see what state the kid was in, but he wasn't expecting to be met with an unmoving Nate and startling drops of blood on the dusty ground. Dread coiled tightly in his gut as Sully swiftly kneeled next to him and reached out to take his shoulder.

"Nate? Hey kid, you hear me? How bad is it?" Sully didn't wait for an answer and gave Nate a once-over with increasing urgency as the only response he got was a quiet groan of pain, and then he saw the wound.

The sniper's bullet had pierced straight through Nate's upper thigh, leaving his right leg useless as blood seeped steadily from the injury, soaking his jeans and top, already staining the ground.

Swearing through gritted teeth, Sully glanced at the kid's face before attempting some makeshift treatment. Nate seemed semi-conscious, one arm half raised above his chest as if to protect himself from an attack that had already happened, eyes squeezed shut with an expression of agony and dragging in breaths through the pain.

Ignoring his own shaking hands, Sully swallowed hard to push down fear as he quickly stripped off his outer shirt and folded it roughly to be a temporary pad, making short work of tearing off one of the long sleeves that was hanging out to use to secure it as a bandage. He bit his lip and hesitated for a second before abruptly putting it on the injury and pressing down hard.

Nate practically screamed in pain and shock, barely holding onto consciousness but automatically moving his hands to push Sully away so the agony would stop.

"God - I can't - Sully, _please,_ " Nate sobbed, fighting so weakly against the contact that Sully was able to keep his flailing arms away with one hand while continuing to put more pressure on the bullet wound with the other.

But even though the kid's desperate pleas of agony shook him to the very core with unconceivable sadness, Sully didn't release his hold, determinedly carrying on with what ministrations he could achieve here before they got the hell out of this place and to a hospital.

"I'm sorry kid, I'm so sorry, I've got to..."

_He'll be okay._ The mental reassurance and mumbled apologies as he worked did nothing now to ease the tearing fear Sully felt for Nate as he lay there, groaning weakly in a continuous low whine as darkness threatened to take him into the blessed relief of unconscious.

That couldn't happen, not yet.

Sully knew they were rapidly running out of time to get Nate help before more complications arose. He grabbed the ripped sleeve and wrapped it around the injured leg, securing the blood-soaked pad that was his shirt tightly on top of the wound.

Reaching for Nate's shoulder to get him up, Sully shook him not quite gently to keep him conscious. "C'mon kid, I'm getting you out of here. You're gonna be okay."

Unquestioning through pained gasps, Nate managed to get up shakily with a lot of help, his injured leg dragging on the ground as he clung to Sully and drew in ragged breaths.

"How... How bad is it?" He choked out as Sully positioned him with support; an arm over the shoulders and around the waist, taking most of his weight as they began to stumble their way back towards the car - haphazardly parked at the edge of the plaza they'd been fighting in; a small relief that they didn't have far to go.

"Shh, don't talk, just focus on staying awake," Sully replied instead, his voice urgent and shaking, and Nate nodded against him with exhaustion.

"Trying," he breathed, even as he spoke feeling his awareness drifting.

Sully let out a sharp breath as he felt Nate slump more against him, and he jostled him slightly in desperation. "Don't you dare pass out on me, kid," he said with an edge to his voice.

Nate's eyes fluttered open then shut, and still they headed towards the car. "Your leg's pretty bad, you've lost a lot of blood, so just... stay with me, okay?"

Answering his earlier question earned nothing more than a numb nod from Nate while shock and growing blood loss took its heavy toll, even as they reached the car and practically fell against it in weakness and desperation.

"Okay, c'mon Nate. You did good, now I'm getting you help."

Sully swallowed the rest of his promises he couldn't keep and, with some difficultly, got Nate in the passenger seat, forcing himself to ignore the sharp breaths and unstoppable whimpers of pain.

With the kid in, Sully slammed the door and ran to the other side of the car, wrenching open his door and almost throwing himself in, pulling the door shut again, and starting the engine to drive like hell at the nearest hospital.

"Hold on, Nate," he pleaded, barely glancing at the kid slumped in the other seat, covered in all his own blood and drowning into unconsciousness as his body ached to give up and darkness tried to pull him in. "Just hold on."

The last thing Nate knew was nodding tiredly, sounds and sights fading, head against the cold window as he was dragged into merciful darkness.

He felt an echoing sadness at not doing as Sully had asked: _stay with me._

* * *

It was dark and warm and soft.

What happened after they'd got in the car and Sully had started driving manically was beyond him; he'd passed out, unable to keep a hold on consciousness from the injury's trauma.

He hadn't promised to stay awake anyway. It didn't make him feel any better.

Nate stirred wearily as he came round, needing only the sight through half-lidded eyes of the ceiling tiles to correctly place himself in a hospital bed. Things slowly came into focus and he squinted at a figure nearby.

"Hey kid," Sully said quietly, straightening up in his chair and watching Nate for a moment. "Welcome back."

A soft smile brightened his tired face as Nate let out a breath and became more aware. "Hey..." He mumbled, wincing as he pushed himself up just a little.

Sully shifted on his chair, watching carefully, ready to push the kid back down if necessary. Nate sighed, eyes wandering around the room before settling back on Sully.

"Am I... how bad was it?"

He shrugged, feigning having almost forgotten. "Luckily bullet went clean through. Doctors fixed you up best they could and you've been out for hours," Sully replied, eyeing the kid.

"Mmm." Nate moved his injured limb experimentally, and a burst of pain shot through him, forcing him to lie level on the bed as slurs of curses were sworn; "Oh for- shit, ah-- ow owowowow owow - !" 

Sully reacted immediately, carefully keeping Nate back down. "No nono - stay still, okay? Take it easy, son, you lost a lot of blood. Alright? And did quite a bit of damage to your leg too," he said gently, leaning back a bit from the bed.

Nate winced as an ache pulsed through him. "I noticed," he said with a throaty chuckle at his own idiocy.

Sully shook his head to himself at that. _Christ,_ kid almost bled out - on his watch - and now they're not just going to laugh about it...

"They say how long I gotta be here for?" Nate asked, cutting into Sully's thought. He was actually lying there pouting as he fiddled with his hands in a way that said he was bored already.

"Relax," Sully reassured, "just worry about getting some rest, alright? The transfusion went well, you're on painkillers and fluids for shock and so on..." He took a deep breath and watched Nate bring his hands to his face to rub it. "A night or so and you'll be okay."

Nate nodded before letting out a breath that turned into a whine. "Craaaap..."

He heard Sully huff in agreement beside him and craned his neck to catch his mentor with a hand to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose and grimacing. The older man's movements were slow and deliberate, not like Sully he'd grown to trust and love in the past years at all.

Blood, that was it. A transfusion. Nate knew he was a vaguely rare blood type, and from the information offered he'd actually been bleeding out, he would've died, and once they got here Sully must've had to...

"You gave me blood," he said. Sully dropped his hand and regarded him for a second before shrugging.

"Universal donor," he simply replied. Nate nodded to himself with a silent sigh. "O negative," Sully defined.

Nate narrowed his eyes at the ceiling, now knowing why Sully looked exhausted and pale. He was tired too, but equally wanted to seem better so they could get out of here and preferably not look back. A rule on how to live life on the run, on the job, always moving on.

Still. He looked back at Sully again and hesitated before starting. "Look-"

"Kid, I'll make you a deal, alright?" Sully interrupted, stopping any lecture Nate'd been about to deliver.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. You just focus on getting better, and I'll make sure we're out of here before any shit hits the fan."

He shook his head in fondness of his mentor even as he smiled and relaxed on the pillows. "Deal," Nate agreed, glancing once again to the side.

Sully smiled back and reached out to ruffle his hair, chuckling when Nate made a face but wisely didn't raise an arm to stop it.

"Considering everything?" Sully said thoughtfully, studying the kid with a glimmer in his eye. Nate raised an eyebrow. "You are a real fixer-upper, but if you push me over again..."

There was a pause where voiceless understanding flowed between them; Sully was unspeakably grateful for the loyalty Nate displayed in not letting him get hit - but the hours or fear and mindless worry as a consequence while he paced three squares of tile, a twenty year old's blood stark on his shirt, was too much of a price to pay.

No matter who takes the bullet, the pain levels to the same.

"What you going to do, old man?"

"Just you watch it, kid, I'm not too old to beat your ass."

Nate's quiet laughter almost filled the holes of empty hours in terror, and Sully almost didn't mind. After all, they were both still alive, and nothing shining in the world mattered more than that.

(Raising a boy isn't a crime, and six years wasn't a lifetime, but for him it meant going to the ends of the earth - and back.)

**Author's Note:**

> I have so many u4 ideas and prompts yelling 'write me!' from my desk and in comments, yet here I am writing another heavily angsted Nate & Sully fic from their early-ish days together. I only regret a couple of things, and that's NOT WRITING U4 FIC! with some luck though I will get around to it soon, since I now have a laptop to actually goddamn write on.  
> Anyway. I just have a lot of feels about Victor Sullivan being a father okay.  
> (the ending got a bit out of hand bc I cannot not write in poetry)


End file.
